


When Hope Is Gone

by Emachinescat



Category: Flight 29 Down
Genre: Angst, Drugs, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Suspense, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 16,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1264561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two strangers arrive on the island, everything goes wrong. Nathan is missing, Daley is heartbroken, Melissa is having a nervous breakdown, Lex is going insane, Jackson is dying, Taylor is depressed, and Eric is silent. How did this happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Day 28: One month after the crash**

Nathan McHugh took a deep breath, appreciating the humid, salty air, and closed his eyes, captivating the moment. A slight breeze wafted from somewhere along the east coast of the island, and tiny drops of water splashed his bare feet as the tide slowly came in, the surf playfully pricking his dark skin. Nathan sighed. He loved the outdoors, the ocean…just being out in nature, but it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy it like this. Since he and ten others had crashed on this deserted island on their way to Palau for an eco-camping trip, the natural world seemed to have been working against them. At times, like when he had been trapped under their plane, unable to move as the tide came in, he had felt almost betrayed by the sea.

But now…Nathan opened his eyes and took in the spectacular sight of a golden-orange sun slowly sinking behind a green and blue foaming ocean. As he watched, a dolphin jumped up and flipped right in front of the yellow orb of sunlight that was slowly fading out of existence for the night. The waves glistened and foamed, crawling steadily onto the beach, and, in the distance, a large bird dove straight into the calm waters, only to surface seconds later with a large fish clasped tightly in its beak. Now, this serene sight was a glorious welcome. This was the first time since he had been stuck here that he had actually taken time to appreciate the wonders of the ocean. Now, the sea wasn't his enemy.

Without a second thought, Nathan pulled off his shirt and raced into the shallow waters, wincing slightly as the ice-cold water struck his bare flesh. His blue jean shorts felt heavy, but his heart was light…he was free…he wasn't stranded in the middle of the ocean, no, not now. Now, he was simply at a beach, soaking in the diminishing rays of the evening sun and splashing in the waves.

The surf, the ocean, the beauty, it was calling to him.  _Nathan!_

He could almost hear its sweet, angelic voice as it beckoned him.  _Nathan!_

He felt a passion he couldn't explain. Why hadn't he done this before?  _Nathan! Nathan!_

"Nathan!" Nathan spun around. His feet had sunk deep into the mushy sand at the bottom of the surf, and he lost his balance, falling onto his rear in a most comical manner.

He heard a giggle, and smiled eagerly when he saw from whom it came—Daley Marin, the girl he adored.

He got up and slowly made his way back to dry ground, where Daley was standing, wearing a pair of green shorts and a blue top, her thick, strawberry-blonde hair waving slightly in the breeze. Nathan blushed and shoved his black, curly mop of sopping hair out of his eyes.

"What were you doing?" Daley asked, grinning.

"I don't know," Nathan muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "Just goofing around, I guess."

"No, not really. We all want to enjoy ourselves sometimes."

Nathan shrugged. "It's hard, though, isn't it? I don't really know what was up with me, I just…I felt peaceful for the first time in a while."

"Well, that's good. But we've got a bigger problem," Daley said.

"What's that?" Nathan queried, alarmed.

"The search parties. Nathan, we've been missing for a month now. They've probably given up hope. I don't know what we're going to do."

But Nathan wasn't listening. His eyes were locked on the ocean directly behind Daley. A look of surprise lingered on his face for a moment, his dark eyes wide and entranced. In an instant, he shot off down the beach, toward the surf once more, shouting wildly at the top of his lungs.

Daley stood perfectly still, worrying. She had known that this revelation would upset him—it would upset anyone who heard it—but she had not expected to act in this way, almost maniacally. However, as she turned to follow him, her eyes also got big as she saw what Nathan had laid eyes on only moments before. A small motorboat was charging full-speed through the open waters—and headed straight for the island!


	2. Chapter 2

Daley shot off in the opposite direction of Nathan, toward camp. As she stumbled into the makeshift living area, breathing hard, several faces looked up at her, surprised.

There was her younger stepbrother, Lex Marin. His dark eyes stared up at her, alarmed, while his dark hair waved in the breeze. Taylor Hagan and Cody Jackson were sitting side-by-side next to the fire pit. Melissa Wu, who Daley strongly believed to have a major crush on Jackson, glanced up from glowering at the two friends. Eric McGorrill rose up from reclining on the sand, and Taylor Hagan sat up, eyes wide.

"What's going on, Daley?"

Daley fought for breath, struggling to speak over her excitement. "I think…" she fumbled, then took a deep breath and continued, "I think we're saved!"

Utter pandemonium reigned. Eric leapt up so quickly that he shot sand everywhere. Taylor screamed at the top of her lungs, dancing around. Jackson looked up at her, a slight smile turning up the right corner of his mouth, but otherwise, he remained motionless. Melissa fell to her knees, muttering to no one in particular, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you…" Lex simply looked stunned.

Finally, he said, "What's going on? How do you know this?"

All eyes were on Daley."Yeah, and where's Nathan?" Melissa asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Eric asked.

"Joke? No one's laughing." Everyone spun around and saw Nathan walking toward them, flanked by two men in their mid-thirties. Both had black hair, black eyes, and tan skin. And both made Daley shudder. She just couldn't say why.

* * *

"We're merchants," Hernando informed the group as they sat around a crackling campfire that night. "We were on our way to trade at a distant island when we saw your plane lying on the shore."

" _Sí_ ," the second man, Ignacio, agreed. Both men were Hispanic, but Ignacio's English was choppy and strangled, while Hernando spoke it like he had been born in America. "We want to help."

"So we took a little detour." Hernando smiled. Daley shivered. There was something about that man's smile, something that didn't seem right.

"Anyway, guys, thanks for being patient with us. We were out at sea all day, and we really needed to get some shut-eye before heading out again."

" _Sí, gracias_ ," Ignacio added.

"No problem," Melissa said kindly. "We're just so glad you found us."

"Hey, being stuck on an island for a month can't be fun. We're glad we found you."

* * *

Taylor sat by the fire, watching the embers fade away. Her brown eyes were downcast, and she seemed oblivious to the fact that everyone else had left for the night, save for one person.

"Hey." Taylor faced Jackson, a deep sadness in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Jackson asked, bewildered. He took a seat next to his friend, who shrugged.

"We're going home. That's all I've been dreaming about forever, but now… Jackson, I've changed. Anyone on this island will tell you that. And everything is different now; messed up. And somehow, I have the feeling that going home is just going to make it worse."

* * *

"Nathan! Where are you going?" Nathan spun to see Daley following him through the woods, worry written on her features.

"I'm going to find Hernando and Ignacio. See if they need help with anything." He frowned. "They ran off pretty quickly after dinner."

"Nathan…that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Nathan took a step closer to her. "What? About Hernando and Ignacio?"

"Yeah…Nathan, I don't know what it is, but something about them gives me the creeps."

Nathan chuckled. "Oh, please, Daley, you're being way too paranoid! They're going to help us get off the island."

"I know they say that, but…" Daley sighed, not understanding why Nathan was so oblivious to the fact that something about those two guys was messed up. "But, Nathan, what are the chances that they randomly show up, right at our island? There's got to be more to this than meets the eye."

Nathan scowled. "Daley, you heard Hernando. They're merchants. They were just passing by."

"Yeah, but who 'passes by', and trades to island tribes using a motorboat?"

"Daley, you're being ridiculous," Nathan scoffed. "Look, I'm just going to find out if they need help with anything. I'm not going that far into the woods, and everything will be fine!" Shaking his head in amusement, Nathan turned and began to walk. Daley bit her lip and spun around. Nathan was right. She was being silly.

Or was she?

And there was still another problem to consider—what was going to happen to the others-Ian, Rory, Abby, and the Captain? They would have to find them before they could leave the island.

* * *

Nathan hurried through the trees, grimacing. They looked so much more foreboding at night, with their gnarled branches reaching up to the sky. He distracted himself by laughing at Daley's silly comments. How stupid, to think that these guys were up to no good.

After fifteen minutes, Nathan heard hushed voices from behind a particularly large bush. Lantern light shone through the tiny holes between the leaves.

Without a second thought, Nathan stepped into full view. "Hey, guys," he said. "I just thought you might need some he…"

His voice faded away as he caught sight of what was lying on the ground at their feet.

Cocaine. Meth. Pills. Bags of it. And cash. Hundred dollar bills were loosely packaged in a large suitcase.

"Oh, hello, Nathan," Hernando said slyly, an odd look in his eye. He swiftly stepped in front of the drugs and smiled. "What brings you here?"

 _Drug dealers_ , Nathan thought, enraged with himself. _Daley was right. There was something wrong with them! They're drug dealers—and this island must be their cash!_

Nathan was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed Ignacio getting up and walking up behind him. In fact, when he felt a rock-hard arm clasp around his neck and a thick, scratchy cloth forced into his mouth, it came as a complete surprise.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, you found out our little secret, _sí_?" Ignacio hissed in Nathan's ear. The boy struggled to free himself from Hernando's iron grasp, struggled to yell, struggled to move. But it was no use. The men were just too much stronger than him.

"This isn't good." Hernando shook his head sadly. "We really did want to help you kids. But with you knowing this, there's no way we can take you home."

"No?" Ignacio asked, looking confused.

"Of course not! They will tell the police of our illegal buisness!"

"So we let him go?" Ignacio guestured to Nathan."I guess so. If they're all stuck on the island, there's no way they can tell about us. Or is there?"

"If rescue come, then we in trouble," Ignacio muttered.

"You're right!" Hernando agreed. "We can't let any of them know about this. So that means, we can't let him go. But we can't take him with us, either, because I really do not want to be pinned for kidnapping."

"So what we do?" Ignacio wondered aloud.

"We leave him here. We leave them all here. But we make sure the others will never find him."

* * *

Daley was getting worried. She paced camp, wringing her hands. She felt someone touch her shoulder, and only relaxed when she saw it was Jackson. "You okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"I don't know!" Daley exploded. "Nathan went off alone to help those two guys, and he hasn't come back yet."

"Ignacio and Hernando? You know, something doesn't seem right about those two," Jackson pointed out.

Daley smiled. "Thank you!"

Suddenly, she heard a yell from deep within the woods. "Nathan!" she cried. She started to race off into the trees, but Jackson held her back.

"Hold on," he said shortly. "It may be dangerous."

They heard a howl of rage, a scream of fury that came from Ignacio, and a cry of anguish. All was silent.

The two waited until nothing could be heard but sobbing from the jungle, and started in. Before they got too far, however, Ignacio and Hernando came running up, terrified and out of breath. Ignacio had blood streaked across his face, and Hernando was clutching something in his right hand, which was trembling.

"What happened?" Jackson asked. The others, who had heard this as well, clustered around the group.

"Where's Nathan?" Taylor wanted to know.

"I'm sorry," Hernando croaked. "We tried to stop it."

"Stop what?" Daley demanded, a knot forming in her stomach.

"It happened so fast…"

"What?"

"A wild boar," Ignacio explained.

"What?" Eric stuttered.

"Yes," Hernando agreed. "It came at us—we were with Nathan—and before we could stop it, the boar rammed it's tusks against the defenseless boy, and plunged its tusk into his heart."


	4. Chapter 4

"What?" Daley fell to her knees, shock overwhelming her. "No, it's not—it's not true! Nothing like this has ever—could ever—I mean…" She turned pleading eyes onto Ignacio. "Tell me this is a cruel joke," she begged, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. She sent a passionate glance in Hernando's direction, but the latter just shook his head sadly and handed Daley what he held in his hand.

"What is it?" Melissa asked, her voice shaking. Lex was standing stock-still, staring at the strangers with a look of horror, mistrust, and confusion. Taylor looked as if she was going to faint, and Eric looked petrified, but Jackson's expression was entirely unreadable.

The group silently crowded around Daley as she held out what appeared to be Nathan's shirt—or what was left of it. There were two giant rips in it, one where Nathan's heart would have been, and the other exactly parallel to it.

Blood splattered the fabric, and surrounded the edges of the rips, looking greatly like something one would find in a horror movie.

"I am so sorry," Hernando whispered. "We tried to save him, but…" he trailed off, looking wistfully into the jungle.

"So where's the body?" Jackson asked. The two men looked startled, and Melissa began to sob.

"What?"

"The body. What did you do with it? We want to have Nathan a proper burial."

Ignacio and Hernando exchanged nervous glances. "We…erm…we threw it out to sea."

Suddenly, chaos reigned in the camp.

"You did WHAT?" Daley demanded, sparks flying from her eyes. "How could you do such a thing?"

"I can't believe you'd be such a jerk!" Eric snapped, glaring at the men.

"Nathan deserved better," Lex agreed.

"I can't believe this is happening," muttered Melissa.

Jackson said nothing. He just stared at the foreigners with an expression of great distrust on his face.

Something Ignacio and Hernando did not fail to notice.

* * *

Nathan struggled to free himself, but it was no use. The rope binding him to the tree was too tight. He had no idea where he was exactly; all he knew was that after making their plans of what to do with him, the two Hispanics had dragged Nathan deeper into the jungle and left him tied to a thick tree, gagged and blindfolded. They had first, however, removed his shirt and cut his arm. They had ripped two holes in the shirt, and smeared his blood all over the cloth.

 _I can't believe I got myself into this,_  Nathan thought sadly.

He just hoped someone would figure out that he wasn't dead. Otherwise, he  _would_  die here in the jungle. Alone.

* * *

All was silent at camp that night. There was an occasional sniffle, or a longing sob, but for the most part, no one made a sound.

"Are you kids still planning on going with us?" Hernando asked compassionately, glancing meaningfully at his partner.

Daley looked up, her eyes red and puffy. "I hadn't even thought about that," she admitted, her voice wavering unsteadily. "I guess so. There's nothing left for us here. Not anymore."

Taylor nodded. "I just want to get home."

"But what about the others?" Lex asked, bringing up the question none of them really wanted to voice.

"The…others?" Ignacio queried. "Who…?"

"There are four others stranded here too," Eric explained. "Three kids and Captain Russell. They went off to explore the island. They haven't come back."

"Well, we cannot trek all around the island looking for some people we don't know where they are," Hernando said instantly.

"I tell you what," Ignacio said reasonably, "We get you home, we find search party, tell them where island is, search for others."

Lex nodded. "Not a bad idea, actually."

A few minutes later, everyone went to bed with heavy hearts. As Ignacio and Hernando headed back into the jungle, Jackson followed. When they were deep enough in, he revealed himself. "Hey."

"Jackson. Yes?"

"I want to know what happened. What really happened," Jackson demanded, staring the two men down.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on," Jackson snapped. "Nathan didn't get killed by a giant pig. I mean the likelihood of the tusk going straight through his heart is a million to one…and we haven't been plagued by pigs any. Why would one just show up out of nowhere?"

"Tell you what. We'll tell you what really happened." Jackson saw the sneer on Hernando's face seconds before he was blindfolded.

He was led through trees and uneven ground, but he remained quiet. This was the only way he was going to find out what really happened to Nathan. Suddenly, he was pushed to his knees and the blindfold was ripped off.

He gasped. Nathan was tied tightly to a tree, blindfolded and gagged. As he watched, Hernando quickly pulled off the blindfold and gag, smirking. Nathan laid eyes on Jackson and gasped. "Not you too!"

"Look, this is going too far," Jackson hissed, eyes flashing. Ignacio smirked and walked off, coming back with a hypothermic needle. "I don't know what kind of illegal business you're into, but—" He stopped abruptly when he felt a needle injected into his arm and a cold liquid being forced into his veins.

"What did you do to him?" Nathan demanded from his tree and Jackson immediately keeled over, passing out.

"It's a very toxic poison—a mixture of two drugs," Hernando explained gleefully. "It causes unconsciousness and shock for periods on and off, flu-like symptoms, and, in the final stages, it shuts off the organs one by one, resulting in death."


	5. Chapter 5

Nathan's eyes grew wide with shock and fury as he thrashed vainly against the ropes binding him tot he tree. "No!" he screamed, panic welling up inside of him. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, but he did not let them show. He had to be strong.

Hernando smirked and stepped toward Nathan, and didn't stop until he was not even two inches from his face. Jabbing a finger at his nose, he spat, "He brought it on himself! If he had just bought the story that you had been killed by a wild boar and stayed nice and safe with the rest of the group, this never would have happened."

"What? You told them  _what_?" Nathan hissed, disbelieving. "You dirty, lying piece of-" He was cut off cut off abruptly as Ignacio backhanded him brutally across the face. Nathan felt a trickle of blood tickle his now split lip.

"You respect us," Ignacio growled.

"Oh, give him a break, Ignacio," Hernando said, smirking. "He doesn't have that much longer to live himself, considering he has no way of obtaining food or water." Turning his evil grin onto Nathan, he continued brutally, "That is, if a wild boar doesn't get you first."

With a laugh, Hernando picked up Jackson, slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and strode away from the scene. Ignacio lingered behind to refastened Nathan's gag and blindfold, and then marched away.

Nathan was alone. He couldn't see. He couldn't move. He couldn't think for the worry. He could barely even breathe.

* * *

"I can't believe all that has happened," Lex said sullenly.

Daley glanced at him, her eyes bloodshot with dark circles clearly etched underneath them.

It was morning, and the group was preparing to leave with Ignacio and Hernando. "Lex, I think we're all really devastated. I mean...the night before we were going home." Daley took a breath, shaking all over. "Nathan...Nathan had so much he wanted to do with his life, Lex. And now...now, he won't ever have that chance, not ever again. And I...I wanted..." She couldn't continue, so she let her voice fade into silence, which almost instantly melted into tears. "I hate this, Lex."

Daley felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Melissa, a half-crazed look on her face. "Mel? What do you need?"

"I can't find Jackson," Melissa whispered, a tremor in her voice. "What if...what if something bad happened like what happened with—" she had to choke out the name, "Nathan?"

Daley shook her head, trying to be tough. "No, Mel, I'm sure he's fine. You know him, always going off and trying to do something on his own."

"I bet I know what he's doing." The three kids looked up to see Eric coming toward them. Daley hated to admit it, but he looked worse than all of them.

"What, Eric? What do you mean?"

Eric shrugged and said, "You know how mad he looked last night when those guys told us what they did to..." he cleared his throat hesitantly. "Nathan?"

All eyes were instantly cast downward. "Yes," Lex said, a lone tear trickling down his young, grief-ridden face.

"I think he went to find the...uh...the..."

"The body?"

The group jumped. Ignacio and Hernando came forward, brows furrowed. Taylor was trailing behind them, pestering them endlessly about when they were going to get to leave this awful place.

Daley nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"I saw Jackson last night. He ran off into the woods after Nathan got killed. We met up with him, and he said he just needed to blow off some steam."

"And he hasn't come back?"

Ignacio frowned. "No, I do not think."

"Tell you what. While you guys go look for him, we'll load up the boat. Okay?" Hernando suggested.

The kids agreed. After a few minutes of searching, a loud roaring could be heard from the beach. The kids all looked at each other and Taylor asked fearfully, "What was that?"

"I think I know," Daley said quietly, not wanting to believe it. They all ran to the beach and were horrified at the sight before them.

"I can't believe it," Lex said despairingly. "They left us behind."


	6. Chapter 6

Nathan struggled vainly against the ropes binding him to the tree, a heavy weight bearing down on his heart. Jackson was in real trouble.  _Well, so am I_ , he thought, considering that he was tied to a tree, unable to move, see, or speak.

But this was different. Jackson wasn't starving to death. Or dying of thirst. Those things took time. And someone could possibly find Nathan before those things happened. But Jackson, the strong one, the smart one, the one who was always ready to try and help them out of a tough situation, he was dying. Dying from a fatal mixture of drugs, in an excruciatingly painful manner. And it was all Nathan's fault.

_If I hadn't gotten myself into this situation, then Jackson wouldn't have come looking for me. Then we would both be safe, and we'd all be home by now._

But was that the truth? Would Ignacio and Hernando really have taken them home? Would they take the others home, even now that two of the party were missing—although Nathan had been presumed dead by his friends? The answers to Nathan's questions swirling around in his head were not clear, but he felt a remorse deeper than he ever had.

Jackson was dying.

A wave of dizziness passed over Nathan, and he swallowed, his throat dry and parched. His stomach rumbled, and realization swept over his immobile form.

He was dying too. 

* * *

"I can't believe they left us," Melissa gasped, staring at the horizon where the boat had just disappeared.

"I can," Daley said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Something was wrong with those guys. I knew it. I think we all knew it. We were just too excited about getting a ride home to actually listen to our instincts."

"So what now?" Taylor said, not even trying to mask her tear strewn countenance. "We just go around like we did before? Like nothing ever happened? Like no one was ever here?"

Lex shook his head. "No."

"It's never going to be the same without Nathan," Melissa whispered, and the group grew somber at the name of their "deceased" friend.

Eric said nothing, just stared out into the jungle, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Why do you think they left us?" Taylor finally asked.

"They were probably into something that they shouldn't have been," Daley said. "They were probably afraid that we'd find out what it was and decided it was too risky to take us back with them."

"Wait a minute!" Lex said, his expressive brown eyes growing big. "What if…what if one of us already figured out what they're up to? What if that's why they left so quickly?"

"Nathan," Daley breathed.

"That's gotta be it!" Melissa agreed. "They were up to something bad. Nathan figured it out. They did something to him, and then made up that 'wild boar' story to cover it up."

"So does that mean that Nathan could still be alive?" Taylor wanted to know.

"I highly doubt it," Lex said, casting his eyes downward. He put a hand to his head. "I've got a headache. Mind if I lay down for a little while, Daley?"

"Of course. You've been through a lot." Daley was worried. Lex was behaving oddly. Of course, a lot of disturbing things had happened lately. She couldn't really blame him.

Once Lex was lying down in the shelter, Daley turned back to the others. "What about Jackson? They told us some story about him, too. Do you think it was true? Or do you think he discovered something as well?"

"We'd better go find him," Melissa said hurriedly, and the others agreed. They split up and began to search for Jackson.

Eric hadn't said a word through the whole ordeal. And still yet, he remained silent. 

* * *

Jackson woke up to an agonizing pain in his chest. Slowly, his memory began to return to him. _Ignacio…Hernando…Nathan, bound, gagged, and blindfolded._

His eyes fluttered open. A thick canopy of trees shielded his view of the sky. He could hear waves crashing against the shore and realized he was in the jungle, not far from the beach. He heard someone calling his name, frantically.

It was Taylor. Maybe. Or it could have been his imagination. He didn't know.

Another pain. This time, sharper. He tried to take in air, but it was difficult. He felt unconsciousness overwhelming his mind and body as he tried to answer the voice screaming for him.

But he couldn't say anything.

His eyelids drooped shut.

He seeped into the icy hands of the black abyss as unconsciousness embraced him once more.


	7. Chapter 7

"JACKSON! JACKSON!" Daley yelled, trying hard to force down the panic that was welling up inside of her. What a horrible mess they were in! And all because these two jerks had decided to come to their island and ruin everything.

Daley stopped, surprised at her own thoughts.  _Their_  island? It was incredible-almost as if they had grown so accustomed to life on the island that it was now their permanent home. A scary, yet slightly amusing thought formed in her mind and she almost laughed. What if they wound up creating a whole new civilization out here? They could populate the island and...

She shook her head, taken aback by her own thoughts. She squinted up at the ever-shining sun and groaned, terror and pain vibrating in every sound wave. She didn't care anymore, she decided. With two of their own missing, very possibly dead, there seemed to be no point in living. Especially with Nathan gone...

"NATHAN!" she yelled on a sudden impulse. Despite what Lex had said, she felt a sudden hope, or maybe just a strong desire, that they could find Nathan alive.

She listened closely for a moment, but no sound came to her ears. "NATHAN!" she screamed once more for good measure. Again, nothing. She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched her

shoulder.

"Melissa! You scared me to death!" she gasped.

Melissa gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and glanced around the large jungle that surrounded them. "Daley...I know you want him back, but..."

Daley sighed in resignation. "I just..." she choked on her words, cleared her throat and tried again. "It's just...I don't want to let him-them-go. I can't believe-"

"Listen, Daley. They're probably waiting for us back at camp. We can leave our search until tomorrow, okay?"

"Tomorrow may be too late!" Daley snapped, but she meekly allowed her friend to guide her through the trees and back to the beach.

* * *

Nathan was trying to ignore the sweltering heat, aching stomach pain, and overwhelming thirst when he heard the voice of an angel. "NATHAN!" His heart leaped into his throat as he realized Daley was calling for him. So they didn't think he was dead. There was still hope for him after all...and maybe Jackson.

Nathan tried to reply to Daley; to tell her that he was alright and that he was here and that he needed her more than ever. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that he was gagged, and his voice was lost behind the cruel obstruction. He felt tears sting the corners of his eyes as he realized the full injustice of the

situation: He was right there, where he could here Daley, but he wasn't able to make a sound. The cruelty of his predicament made him feel sick. He prayed that he wouldn't throw up, because if he did, suffocating with his own vomit would be a definite possibility with the gag still in place.

"NATHAN!" Daley yelled one more time, and the boy tried to make any noise he could; thrashing about in his bonds like a wild man, grunting and groaning behind the gag, but it was pointless, he realized. The blow took a heavy toll on him and he sagged in the ropes that bound him, exhausted.

He heard Melissa's voice, but couldn't tell what she was saying. Maybe, just maybe, they would find him. Perhaps all was not lost like it seemed to be at this very moment. But his hopes were dashed when he heard Melissa saying, a little louder this time, "C'mon Daley. The others will be searching for us by

now."

The sounds of footsteps shuffling away sent Nathan into an inescapable whirlpool of relentless self-pity and depression.

_I'm going to die out here._

* * *

Melissa and Daley were walking toward the beach when Melissa spotted something colorful on the ground. She squinted, and saw that it was a blue hat-Jackson's! She squealed for Daley to follow and darted toward the hat, hope renewed.

The next thing she knew, her foot connected with something solid and she was flying head over heels through the air, limbs flailing. She landed with a thump a few feet away and lay there for a moment, winded. Whatever had tripped her had to have been pretty big. She opened her eyes and pushed herself to her knees.

There was Jackson's hat, right in front of her.

She heard a sharp gasp and an, "Oh, no," from Daley's direction and spun around as quickly as she dared. There was Jackson, lying on the ground. At first Melissa thought he was asleep and she had to refrain from doing a jig of joy.

But when she saw the thin film of sweat that covered his face and the horrible pain that racked his features she stopped, horrified.

She put a shaking hand to his forehead and had to pull it away, it was so hot. Something warm and wet landed on her hand. A tear. She hadn't realized she was crying until she was wiping away the tears. "Mel..." she heard Daley say mournfully.

"He's alive," Melissa said quickly, checking his pulse and breathing, "but weak...very weak. He's got a fever, and he's unconscious, possibly delirious." She paused, looked blankly at Daley, then snapped, "Go get help! Get Eric and Taylor and Lex and Na-" she stopped, her face turning bright red. "Just hurry!"

Normally, Daley would have objected to being ordered around, but now all she could do was nod and comply, terror in her eyes.

Melissa sat by Jackson's side, pouring water on his face and neck and into his mouth from the bottle she had with her. She talked soothingly to him and rubbed his wrists and felt his burning head.

Twenty minutes later, Daley came bursting through the underbrush with Eric and Taylor in tow. Taylor's eyes widened with fear as she saw Jackson lying there, unmoving. "Ohmigosh," she breathed. "Is he okay?"

Melissa glared at her and said with more anger than she meant, "Just stop talking Taylor! We have to get Jackson back to camp."

In forty minutes, the four teens had painstakingly managed to haul the unconscious Jackson to the beach, where they lay him in a tent, the one Lex had retreated to with a headache-

"Where's Lex?" Melissa asked quickly as she tried to make Jackson comfortable.

Daley's eyes grew wide with fright. "I-I don't know. He was here when we left, but..."

"Let's just focus on Jackson right now, okay?" Taylor said, and to her surprise, the others agreed.

Eric merely looked on, his face expressionless. Melissa wanted to slap him, to scream at him, to tell him that he was a heartless jerk, but she couldn't. She didn't have the heart.

Daley pulled a disposable thermometer out of the first aid kit that Taylor had quickly produced. After forcing it under his tongue, the group waited three agonizing minutes before Daley took the cheap plastic device and squinted at the narrow red line coming from it. She gasped and handed it to Melissa, who immediately felt faint.

"What is it?" Taylor said, her stomach beginning to knot up.

"109.3 degrees," Daley said slowly. "No one has ever had a temperature that high and survived without treatment. At the very least, even if they did survive, there would be no chance of them escaping without brain damage."

Taylor burst into tears and melted into a sobbing puddle. Then she straightened up, eyes fiery. "No," she said simply. "No. Jackson never gave up on us, and we won't give up on Jackson."

The others nodded, but each knew the truth.

The truth was, it would be a miracle if Jackson made it through the night.


	8. Chapter 8

Nathan was woken by a sharp pain in his arm. He struggled to think; to remember what had happened. His mind was fuzzy and he was sweating profusely. In his dizzied state of mind, he decided that sweating was both good and bad; good, because he still had some fluid in his body; and bad, because sweating caused him to lose that fluid, and that meant that it was very possible that he would be dehydrated very soon.

But what had woken him? He struggled to remember, his brain feeling like a blanket of confusion was surrounding it. It hadn't been this headache or the thirst, he was pretty sure of that. But then what was it? His answer came moments later as an itching, painful sting radiated through his arm.

His arm. What had happened to it? He tried to think back as far as he could, and then it came to him. Those men, those drug dealers! When they had kidnapped him, they had cut his arm. Why, he couldn't recall, but at the moment, it didn't seem very relevant. Suddenly, something that he had read in a Boy Scout manual a few years ago found its way back into his head.

Infection. His arm had been cut with a rusty knife, and was itching and stinging. Wasn't that the first sign of infection? The dizziness and nausea came back full force. Infection? No, maybe it was the first sign of Chicken Pox. Or maybe...?

His mind was so fuzzy that he didn't try to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. He felt his head flop back onto the rough bark of the tree, and his last semi-coherent thought before he passed out was, I'm going to die.

* * *

He was in a pool of fire and water, drowning and burning at the same time. His lungs were running out of air and the smell of rotten flesh overcame his senses, and he threw up. He was sweating and shivering, paralyzed, unable to move, or breath, or think. He was dying.

He could vaguely hear voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. They sounded familiar, but he couldn't decide why. Some were girls' voices. Angels? He didn't think so. He was in too much pain to be in Heaven, but he didn't think such pretty, musical voices would be in the other place. A new wave of pain hit him, and he screamed again. Then again, maybe he was in hell.

* * *

Daley stared at the thermometer. 109.6. She remembered something from her health class last year, and she knew for certain one of two things: Either (1) The thermometer was right, and even if Jackson did survive, there was no possible way that he would do so without brain damage, or (2) the thermometer had been ruined during the crash, maybe water or sand logged, and was reading the wrong temperature. After all, they hadn't had a need to use it yet, so they hadn't tested it out.

If number two was the case, Daley figured, then Jackson might not have been as bad off as they had originally thought. If number one was the case, however, she knew without a doubt that Jackson wouldn't make it off the island-probably not even through the night-alive.

She had to test her theory immediately. She screamed, "Mel! Come here!" Melissa hurried to the tent from the fire pit, face etched with sorrow and concern.

"What is it, Daley? How is he doing?"

Without answering Melissa's question, and without giving an explanation, Daley ordered, "Take the thermometer and wash it in boiling water. Wait five minutes for it to cool down, and then take your temperature, then Lex's, Eric's, and Taylor's. Then bring it back to me-make sure you wash it between each person, though. Write down the results, and bring them to me. Oh,and get me a bottle of water while you're at it. Thanks, Mel."

Melissa looked slightly confused at the strange order, but she ran off to do what Daley asked without question. Daley figured that Melissa would jump into a volcano without a second thought if it meant saving Jackson's life.

Forty-five minutes later, Melissa returned with a sheet of paper, the thermometer, water, and a very worried expression. She handed everything to Daley without a word and sat down next to her, looking forlornly at Jackson's deathly-pale face. But he wasn't dead. Dead people didn't moan and shake,shiver and sweat, and scream as they hallucinated horrors only they could see, hear, and feel.

Daley concentrated on trying to get some water into Jackson first and foremost, then patted some onto his sweaty, burning forehead. Only after she was done with this task did she turn her attention to the paper Mel had produced:

_Melissa-102.4_

_Lex-102.6_

_Taylor-103.1_

_Eric-101.9_

Daley smiled in relief, and Melissa looked at her, shocked. "This is horrible!" Melissa protested Daley's smile. "I mean, I don't feel like I've got a fever, but clearly, whatever Jackson's got is contagious!"

Daley shook her head. Normally, Melissa was very bright and would have been able to figure out what Daley was thinking in a heartbeat. But Nathan's sudden death and Jackson's illness had taken a toll on all of them-and it was definitely taking a huge toll on Melissa's thinking capabilities.

"Melissa, we all feel fine, except for Jackson, of course. It's not possible that we would all have fevers. The thermometer is off, whether it is water-logged or sand-ridden or whatever. Jackson doesn't have a temperature of 109.6. We don't have fevers at all."

Melissa brightened, then looked downcast again. "So the thermometer is useless."

Daley frowned and stared down at the thermometer. She studied the list of temperatures, and then the thermometer again. She suddenly smiled. "No, Mel. I don't know much about stuff like this, but if I'm correct, if we say that our temperature is somewhere around normal, then we can see by how many degrees it's off. Then we take that from Jackson's temperature, 109.6, and we'll have a rough estimate of what his actual temperature is."

Melissa wrinkled her nose. "That sounds complicated. I was never too good at math."

"That's what I get for having a little brother who's a genius," Daley retorted.

She then took the paper and pencil and did some figuring. She looked up, her face white.

"What is it, Daley?" Melissa wanted to know.

"Not good, Mel. Better than 109.6, but he's pushing it. If my-our-calculations are correct, then Jackson has a temperature somewhere around 105."

"What does that mean?" Melissa asked, but her eyes said that she already knew the answer.

A single tear spilling down her cheek at the thought of loosing yet another in their group, Daley said, "If it gets any higher, Mel, he'll be in serious danger. If we can't get this down, he'll be dead by tomorrow...and if he does live through the illness, the brain damage will most certainly take him soon after."


	9. Chapter 9

Lex stood over Jackson, his head jumbled with thoughts so jumbled they made no sense at all. I've seen this somewhere…but where? He knew, somewhere in his frazzled mind, the solution to Jackson's illness. But where was it?

He sighed in frustration, and stomped out of the tent.

He was losing it. Really, really losing it.

* * *

Eric sat next to the fire, an unreadable expression on his pale face. Taylor came to sit beside him, her eyes streaked with tears, her hair matted and make-up smeared. It was the worst she'd ever looked, and she knew it; probably the worst she'd ever smelled for that matter—she hadn't had the will to bathe or even change clothes since the news about Nathan came—and with this about Jackson added in, she was completely lost.

"Hi," she said, her words barely audible through her fear and despair.

Eric ignored her.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Taylor said. "At first, I thought I did too…maybe if I shut everyone out, this would all go away…but that's not true Eric. Please don't shut me out. Everyone else is going crazy and I can't stand not having anyone to cry to…"

Eric was silent.

* * *

Lex stormed away from camp, racking his brain for something…

If only Jackson would wake up coherently, even for a couple of seconds…he could possibly give them a clue to what caused this illness…

Or if Nathan was alive…if he had somehow survived…

Lex started. In his dizzied state, he had wandered deeper into the jungle than he had wanted to. He knew everyone would be waiting for him back at camp. He sighed, and turned to leave, but something caught his eye. A piece of fabric. From Nathan's shirt! Heart beating wildly, Lex began to venture just a little deeper…

* * *

Nathan woke up shivering. He could still feel the evening heat beating down on his exposed flesh, but the ice wasn't on the outside—it was slipping through his veins, silent, but torturous. If he hadn't been gagged, his teeth would have been chattering. The cut on his arm had become even more irritated, red and swollen. He was dizzier than he had been—dehydration and a fever did not go well together. He was no longer sweating, for he had nothing else left to sweat, and his throat was parched, his stomach convulsing…

 _Good thing I don't have any food in my stomach, though_ , he thought blearily as the darkness began to settle in once more, or I'd be choking on my own vomit…

The thought made him sick, and his stomach convulsed again. He grunted in pain, then his head fell forward as he passed out once more.

* * *

Lex heard a muffled groan and his heartbeat raced even faster. He broke into a run, toward the noise, through some trees, and saw…

"NATHAN!" Lex screamed, racing to the palm tree where Nathan—or what used to be the Nathan Lex knew—was tied with thick ropes. His face was sunken and pale, his hair matted, shirtless, shivering, with a deep cut that was most certainly infected on his arm.

Lex placed a shaking hand on Nathan's neck, feeling for a pulse, and the skin was burning to the touch—almost as hot as Jackson's had been. At first, he thought that Nathan might have the same thing as Jackson, but that couldn't be the case. The signs clearly showed that Nathan was suffering from a severe infection, dehydration, and malnutrition.

Lex's small hands stumbled over the large knots in the rope, but they wouldn't budge. Gently, Lex reached up and pried the gag from Nathan's mouth. The teenager let out a huge gulp of air, and Lex relaxed a little more, knowing it would be easier for him to breath now.

"Nathan?" He said, shaking the bound boy's shoulders. But Nathan was out cold.

Lex hated to do it, but he knew what he had to do—he had to leave Nathan just long enough to get help. "Stay here," he said quietly, and then scoffed at the horrible joke—the kind he was not prone to making—then raced off toward camp.

* * *

Daley was looking over Jackson when Lex came bursting out of the trees, eyes wild, babbling incoherently.

"Lex," she said, standing up and exiting the tent. "What's wrong?"

"I…found…Nathan," Lex panted, his small lungs out of air.

Eric shot up. "Where?"

Taylor ran over, rolling her eyes in Eric's direction. "Now he speaks."

"Is he…?" Daley couldn't finish the sentence.

Lex nodded. "Yeah, he's alive."

"Where is he?" asked Melissa, who had hurried as fast as she could when she heard the news.

"In the woods—tied to a tree."

There were shouts of "what?" and "why?"

"Yeah, I know it has something to do with those two guys who left us here—his arm was cut and infected, and he's been out there alone with no food or water ever since he went missing. He's got a fever, and he's dehydrated! But I can't untie him, or move him to camp. So somebody needs to come help!"

Instantly, Eric, Daley, and Melissa sprang into action. Once they were gone, Taylor slipped into the tent where Jackson lay, muttering something about "drugs", and kissed his burning forehead gently. "Please don't leave me," she sobbed. She knelt down and kissed his parched lips, then shocked at what she had just done, rushed back outside to keep watch, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

* * *

Daley, Melissa, and Eric followed Lex to where Nathan had been tied up. Lex looked back at the others as he flew past the trees that led to the captive.

"He's just up ahead."

He turned, and gasped.

Nathan, the ropes, the gag—everything was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

"I-I don't understand," Lex stammered.

"Are you sure you're in the right place?" Daley asked.

Lex was looking frantic. "Yes-I'm sure of it! But where could he have gone so fast?"

"Maybe he found his way back to camp," Melissa put in helpfully, but Lex glared at her with wide eyes.

"I told you-he was securely tied to a tree. Someone must have taken him!"

Daley and Melissa looked at each other with doubt in their eyes. "Lex, you've been through a lot of stress lately, and it is perfectly normal that you would be seeing-"

"No, Daley!" Lex excalimed. "I know what I saw! Nathan was here!" His black eyes swept over the empty place in front of him. No ropes. No gag. No Nathan. No anything. "Or was he?"

* * *

"Nathan? C'mon, buddy, wake up!"

Nathan thought he recognized the voice that was slowly coaxing him out of his dark haven. He started to open his eyes, but then remembered his situation. He was tied, gagged, and blindfolded, tied to a palm tree. He was hungry, thirsty, and dying. But what about the voice? Had someone found him?

After a bit of struggling and ordering his brain to function, Nathan managed to open his eyes. He was staring into the face of Abby. "A-" he croaked, but his throat was so parched that he couldn't say anything more.

Someone helped him sit up and pressed a bottle of water to his lips. He drank it slowly, afraid that he would be sick if he went too fast.

"Abby? How-?"

"Shhhh..." She crouched beside him, fear in her dark eyes. Her freckles stood out profusely on ghost-pale skin. "He'll know you're awake, and we can't risk that yet."

"Who? What's going on?"

"Shhhh! Captain Russell, he-"

"What about him?"

" _Si_ , what about him?" Hernando walked into the room, followed by Juan and Captain Russell.

"What's going on?" Nathan asked again, now seriously unnerved. He attempted to sit up, but was still too weak. "Let me help you," Russell said, an evil gleam in his eye. The pilot reached down, grabbed a handful of Nathan's abundance of hair, and yanked him roughly to his feet.

The next thing Nathan knew, there was a knife to his throat.


	11. Chapter 11

Lex paced the length of the camp, his young face screwed up in worry. He didn't know what was going on anymore, and he hated it. Despite being the youngest in the group, he was the smartest – and that wasn't being arrogant, it was just the truth, like it or not – of them all, and now… now, he didn't know what was up and what was down. He felt like the whole world had been turned upside down and there was nothing he could do about it.

 _How_ could he have been wrong about something like this? Sure, they had all been through a lot of stress lately – as if crashing on a deserted island and losing the only adult with them to the maze of the forest, not knowing if he was alive or not, wasn't bad enough, they were being picked off, one by one. It was enough to make anyone crazy.

_Crazy._

The word and implications of the concept were foreign to Lex, yet he felt a sneaking feeling begin to make its nest in his stomach, curling around his heart.  _Crazy._

He wasn't crazy! Was he?

Nathan  _had_  been there! He  _had_  to have been. How could Lex have just imagined that he'd seen his friend tied to a tree. That wasn't something that people just thought they saw. That was scary, sick, and…

Real?

Or not real?

Suddenly, for the first time in his young life, Lex was unsure of himself. His heart began to pound a bit faster and he felt sweat begin to bead his clammy forehead.  _Crazy…_

He wasn't losing his mind.

Or was he?

* * *

"No!" Abby's normally brave and tough face was marred with anxiety as she leapt to her feet, wide eyes locked on Captain Russell. The expression on her face was just as unnerving – if not more so – than the fact that their pilot had his big hands meshed in Nathan's curly hair and a knife to his throat. He hadn't known Abby for very long, but every time that he had seen her, or talked to her, in whatever kind of situation she was in, she always had on a brave face.

He realized that he may have taken her bravery for granted, putting her in such a perspective that he perceived her as a strong, fearless, nearly invincible figure. After all, he had seen her stumble into their camp with a sharp stick jammed through her upper arm, having pierced all the way through, and although it had to have hurt like hell, she hadn't complained. She had traveled all the way across the island by herself, through the wild, untamed wilderness that Nathan and his fellow survivors on their side of the island were reluctant to do, even in groups. Thus, when he saw Abby looking so scared and fragile, it shook Nathan to the core. What had happened to their rock?

Taking another glance at her pale, terrified face and shaking hands, while trying to control his own emotions and breathing himself, forcing himself not to move lest the knife at his throat pierce his skin, Nathan realized what was happening to their rock – she was crumbling. And who could blame her, really? He didn't know what she and the others – where  _were_ Ian and Rory, anyway? – had been through, but judging by sight of the two murderous drug dealers teaming up with Russell, who, at the moment, had his rusty blade resting lightly but dangerously on Nathan's throat, things hadn't been exactly peachy for them these last few days. What had happened to Captain Russell? Why had he sided with the dealers?

He felt the cool metal prick his skin – barely, but enough to cause a trickle of blood to seep down the chocolate-colored flesh – and he was jerked away from his frantic thoughts and troubled reveries, thrown full-force back into reality, into the nightmare that had become his life.

_There was a blade to his throat._

Abby was speaking, her voice trembling and soft, like she was talking to an unbalanced person. "Captain Russell, what are you doing?" The captain didn't answer, but tightened his grip on Nathan's hair, causing the boy to cry out in pain. Abby clenched her teeth as she watched her friend yell out and Nathan locked eyes with her, shocked at the pain and hurt in those dark brown depths. What all could have happened to turn her fierce determination into pure desperation?

She tried again. "Captain Russell, please, just put the knife down. Nathan's done nothing wrong; if you're angry at him for some reason, we can talk about it rationally, can't we?" Her eyes darted to the two Hispanic men that were flanking the pilot and she swallowed heavily. "Who are you? What did you do to Captain Russell?"

One of the men, Juan, Nathan believed, stepped forward threateningly and Abby stumbled back, nearly tripping over a piece of wood. She steadied herself and watched as the man smirked at her. "What are you talking about, sweetheart? We would never do anything to our friend."

Abby looked confused and continued to back away. "Friend? But…"

Juan reached for her and Nathan lurched against the captain, forgetting about the knife at his throat momentarily. All that was on his mind was that he was  _not_ going to let those creeps get their hands on his friend. Surprised at his outbreak, the pilot let go, his expression unreadable, and Nathan lunged for Juan, tackling him to the ground, despite his weakened state. Juan collapsed under him, squirming, but Nathan was bigger.

He had forgotten about Hernando, though, and he heard a footstep behind him. Before he could turn, he felt something hit him on the side of the head, and even though he did not black out, he fell to his knees, his vision blurring, dazed.

When he looked up, his eyes watering and head pounding, he was appalled to see that Juan had broken away from him and was standing behind Abby, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other holding a gun to her head.

"One move," the criminal spat, "and she dies."


	12. Chapter 12

Camp was silent. Even the normal sounds that would be heard on a beautiful, cloudless night like this were absent. The crickets weren't chirping, the wind was still, and even the water was exceedingly quiet in its constant push and pull against the sand on the beach. The fire was burning in the fire pit but it somehow seemed dull, lifeless. Like everyone on this cursed island.

Eric was staring into the flames, his normally carefree blue eyes reflecting not only the flames but so much sadness that it could drive a man mad. Perhaps it would.

He was looking, glaring at the fire, poking it absently with a stick. He stood abruptly and threw the stick toward the woods, as far as he could, with all the aggression he could muster, almost as if the stick itself was to blame for their predicament – and thought, if only for a moment, that he saw a flicker of movement from the trees, but shook the feeling off, scowling. He was angry. At the fire, at the stick, at himself, at everyone else, but mostly at whatever sick force had decided that stranding them on this damn island was an idea of fun.

Of course, it had been just that – fun – the first few days before the truth of their predicament sunk in. He'd always been a playful and happy-go-lucky kind of guy, avoiding the realm of emotions that confused him – fear, sadness, doubt – and just making the best of whatever situation he was put in. Yeah, he'd complain about it – a lot – but he wouldn't go all 'the world is ending' because of a silly plane crash.

Well, now the world  _was_  ending, or so it seemed. Eric had lost two of the people closest to him in a span of two days.

Yeah, they were close. He and Nathan more than he and Jackson, but still, the sentiment remained. He hadn't cared for either one of them much at all when they had boarded Flight 29 to go on this stupid eco-camping trip, or when they crash landed on this spit of land. The more time he spent with them, however, the more Eric found that he liked about each of their personalities, what he wanted to learn from them and adapt for himself. Something that he admired in each of them.

Nathan was strong, hardy, and generally happy. He knew how to get things done, how to take responsibility, and had gotten way better at being able to step down and push back his pride when need be than he had when they first crashed. Eric hadn't liked Nathan much at all, or hadn't acknowledged his friendship with the other guy, until the day that Nathan had gotten stuck under the plane. Eric had sat with him the whole time, trying to comfort him, assure him that all would be okay.

But if truth be told, Eric had been getting pretty scared there near the end, when Daley and the others still hadn't come back from their food-gathering expedition. For a few moments there, he thought that Nathan was going to die. That he was going to have to watch his friend drown right in front of him, with there being  _nothing_  Eric could do to save him.

Eric had learned a lot about Nathan that day. For example, Nathan wasn't nearly as flawless or unflappable as Eric had once thought – he had seen Nathan cry. He had seen Nathan overcome his pride. Eric thought that that was the day when they had become friends. And now Nathan was dead – or running around in the forest with an infected wound, tied up, if they were to go by what Lex said.

And then there was Jackson. Strong. Independent. Brave. And totally impossible to figure out. Eric still didn't know what made him tick, or if the dude even knew what a smile  _was_ , but there was something very comforting about Jackson's presence. Like being near Jackson was a safe place to be.

And now that rock, that strength, was on the verge of death.

Eric had all but lost the two closest friends he had. And the worst part about it?

He had never even told them that he considered them to be his closest friends. Now they would never know what they meant to him.

* * *

Melissa stood just beneath the cover of the trees, her dark eyes locked on Eric's form. The usually annoying boy was unnaturally still, poking the fire at random. Silent. Quieter than the eerily quiet night surrounding them. She nearly jumped and blew her cover when he leapt up and threw the stick that had, just moments before, been stoking the fire, as hard as he could, toward her.

It almost hit her.

Eric had been silent for days now, barely uttering a word. It was so unnatural. She watched as Eric sat back down, his shoulders heaving. He was falling apart, she realized.

They all were, she added silently, her heart constricting as her gaze fell on the tent in which Jackson, a man that she still hadn't figured out, was fighting for his life. Or rather, losing the fight for his life. She had just finished visiting him, and had been horrified by her friend's condition.

Jackson was burning with a raging fever, although, thankfully, with the use of Tylenol and cold water, they had been able to lower to a degree that didn't threaten brain damage – they hoped. Sweat beaded his brow and he tossed and turned, wincing and crying out in pain every time he moved. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and she had been able to see the blue veins clearly visible behind his pallid skin.

He looked like death.

And then there was Nathan…

Melissa was sure he was lost forever, with no hope of return. She choked back a sob, not wanting Eric to know that she was watching him. Her thoughts wandered back to her best friend. They had been through so much together, and to lose him now, after everything they had survived on the island…

It just wasn't fair!

She wanted to see him again, to hug him and hear him tell her that everything was okay. That he was fine, Jackson would be better in no time, that Lex wasn't losing his mind, that Eric wasn't falling apart… and that they were back home. Not this home. For a while there, it had almost been like the island was home.

Not anymore.

Not after everything that they had been through because of those stupid people who had came to the island and killed Nathan. Now Jackson was dying, too, and they were all falling apart. Maybe they should all just sit and waste away, let the island have their minds, hearts, and dreams.

It had already taken one, was taking another, and seemed intent on taking them all, one by one.

* * *

Daley sat by Jackson's side in the tent, desperately trying to hold the tears back as she watched her friend shift slightly and then moan in pain. He was covered in chill bumps from head to toe, yet his hair was stuck to his forehead with a layer of sweat. Jackson's face was so pale, dark circles under his eyes…

She choked on a sob and a tear splashed onto Jackson's cheek. He unconsciously tried to touch the moisture that had landed on his face, and cried out in agony when his weak arm protested. Daley put a hand over her mouth, smothering more sobs as her body began to shake. She took the wet cloth and put it over Jackson's forehead. "Shhh…" she whispered, her heart trying to rip in two.

The boy she had fallen in love with was dead. Their rock and strength was dying. Her genius of a brother was hallucinating. Eric just sat there, silent, unmoving, like a ghost, like someone who didn't belong in the world. Taylor refused to rest or eat. The only time she would drink was when the thirst got so bad that she began to dehydrate and dry heave, her stomach rebelling and trying to empty itself of what wasn't in it. Melissa would disappear for long periods of time into the woods.

They were crumbling. Dying. Falling apart.

She heard a rustle at the front of the tent and she looked up to see a pale, thin, scared Taylor with messy hair and unwashed clothes staring at her through eyes that were blank, void of all life. Dead. She fought back a shudder as she took in her friend's appearance. "How is he?" Taylor croaked, her voice sounding hoarse and it hurt Daley's throat just to hear the raw scratchiness.

Daley shrugged, standing up. She knew that Taylor would take good care of Jackson, and she just couldn't do this anymore. She had to get away. She knew Lex was in another tent, sleeping, and she wanted to check on him, anyway. "He's… alive," she replied dully, knowing how distant and resigned she sounded.

Taylor nodded like the news didn't surprise her. Her eyes still held the same dull, blank expression, like there was nothing worth living for any more. "Taylor, you  _have_ to eat, or bathe, or  _something_!" Daley tried desperately.

Taylor laughed shortly, angrily. "Right," she muttered, her voice cracking like she had swallowed broken glass. "Because there's so much to look forward to." She glanced down at Jackson. "If he dies, too –" Daley winced at the non-subtle reminder that Nathan was dead, "—then two of us will be gone. There's no point anymore."

Daley wanted to protest, but she couldn't find the energy or the will. She hoped that Taylor was just talking, that she really wasn't thinking about ending it all if another of them died, but she couldn't be sure. She didn't get into the matter yet, though, because she knew that as long as Jackson was alive, Taylor wouldn't give up completely.

Sighing, she left the tent to go find her brother, knowing that Jackson couldn't be in any better hands than Taylor's.


	13. Chapter 13

Abby kept her eyes locked on Nathan's, determined not to close her eyes and show how afraid she really was. She could feel the thug's muscular arm snaked around her waist and the idea of him touching her made her sick. The cold barrel of the gun dug into her temple, keeping her still and ensuring that Nathan didn't do anything stupid. She let her eyes wander fearfully to the trees behind them, knowing that somewhere close by, her friends Ian and Jory lurked in the shadows of the abandoned hotel they had discovered and had made camp in. She was terrified that they would come out now and get hurt. They should have gotten away from Captain Russell while they could.

Nathan's eyes were wide as he kneeled on the ground, his hands still clutching his head. His eyes were watering, probably from that hit he'd taken from the other guy.  _That was a cheap thought_ , Abby fumed mentally. She shifted slightly in her captor's grip, unable to stand his sweaty arm pressed against her thin waist, and he pressed the gun harder into her head. She whimpered softly, afraid to blink.

The man behind Nathan looked at Captain Russell, who still had that ugly gash on the side of his head. She suppressed a shudder when his dark eyes met hers briefly. She had had suspicions that the blow to the head had made the pilot a bit unstable, but if she had known how dangerous he was, she would have grabbed Ian and Jory and ran away. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Now Nathan was involved in this too… whatever  _this_ was.

She shook herself mentally. No, she couldn't take the blame for Nathan being involved with the other two creeps, at least. When she had been searching for fruit and had found him, tied to a tree with an infected wound, dehydrated and semi-conscious, she had done the only thing that any person would do. She ran for the other two teenagers and together they managed to lug Nathan this far before they'd had to stop because he was dead weight. She'd instructed Ian to go back to the hotel and find anything they could use to clean his wound, Jory to get water. They didn't hesitate to do what she said; it was just known and accepted that she was the leader. Russell didn't count, although he liked to think he did.

Abby had taken the supplies and started to fix Nathan up, praying all the while that he would survive whatever trauma he had been through – and fretting about who it was that had done this to him. She certainly didn't think that the pilot would be this cruel – but after seeing him put a knife to Nathan's throat, she wasn't so sure. The only thing she had been positive of was that the others had nothing to do with it and had no idea he had been bound and injured in the woods. They must be worried sick! Ian and Jory had hurried back to the hotel to try and find more supplies should they need them and now Abby was terrified that they would run in on this scene and get themselves hurt – or worse. Since she had become the unofficial leader, she felt that anything that happened to them was her responsibility.

She was jerked out of her fearful thoughts when Captain Russell stepped forward, brushing off his jeans. "What now?" he asked, almost hesitantly. His eyes moved between the two Hispanic men. Abby saw the flicker of uncertainty and wondered if there was any of the real Russell buried beneath the confusion and chaos his unfortunate head injury had caused.

The man behind Nathan frowned. "Come here and help me with this one, Russ."  _Russ?_  Abby couldn't help but wonder.  _Why on earth do they sound so friendly? Like they've known each other for a while?_  She thought back to what he had said earlier…  _They said they were friends…_ The man continued, nodding in Abby's direction. "Ignacio, keep a good grip on that girl. She's our insurance that curly top here cooperates."

Between Russell and the other thug, they managed to pull Nathan to his feet. Abby winced when she saw Russell drag her friend to his feet by his injured arm, fresh blood beginning to seep through the sterile bandages she'd just applied a few minutes ago. She looked at Nathan's face and realized that his eyes were unfocused and glassy and his forehead was glistening with sweat. His fever was still raging and although she had give him some Tylenol for the pain, he was going to need antibiotics to get rid of that beast of an infection. He was in bad shape and the rough way the pilot and his new cronies were treating him was only bound to make him worse.

She watched helplessly, trying to ignore the feel of the cold metal pressed against her head as the two men pulled Nathan's hands behind his back and tied his wrists firmly. His eyes flashed something like desperation for a moment as he vainly struggled. Abby stifled a scream when the gun cocked – she could almost sense her captor's finger tightening on the trigger. Instantly, Nathan stilled, begrudgingly allowing the other dark-skinned man behind him to slip a course rag into his mouth and tie it around the back of his head securely. "Stay with him," he ordered Russell as Nathan swayed on the spot.

Together, the two other men worked to subdue Abby as well. Then they were forced to walk – Nathan stumbling and swaying more than walking – in the direction of the abandoned hotel, Russell in the lead. The gun was still trained on Abby and her captor – Ignacio – walked beside her, his strong hand gripping her arm like a vise. The other man supported Nathan, while simultaneously giving him small shoves, propelling him forward.

Full-fledged fear curdled in Abby's stomach as the hotel came into view. She heard Nathan catch his breath as the crumbling structure caught his fever-glazed eyes. Poor guy probably thought he was hallucinating. They were hustled forward by the three men and Abby bit back tears. They were prisoners of three madmen and Ian and Jory were nowhere in sight.

No one knew they were here. No one knew they were in danger.

This was  _not_  good.


	14. Chapter 14

Taylor sunk to her knees beside Jackson after Daley exited the tent, her friend's words swirling in her mind.  _You need to eat… bathe… something!_  She knew she had snapped at Daley in retort but she found she didn't have the energy to feel bad about it. The feeling of hopelessness was weighing her down tremendously. If Jackson didn't make it…

She didn't even want to think about it.

Biting her chapped bottom lip, Taylor took the rag Daley had laid aside and poured some cool water from a plastic bottle over the material. She placed the cloth on Jackson's head, holding it there firmly when he squirmed, almost as if trying to get away from it. The tears spilled over and she found herself sobbing madly, gasping for breath as her unhealthily thin frame trembled dangerously with each muffled cry.

"Jackson," she choked out, her eyes not looking at his face for once, too overcome by her grief. She didn't want to see the pallid, almost translucent skin glistening in a sheen of fever-induced sweat. She didn't want to see slits of fever-glazed eyes as they roved around unseeingly in sunken sockets, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. She certainly didn't want to see Jackson's face scrunched up against the pain or feel the raging fever through the cloth she'd placed on his face.

She didn't want to see Jackson like this but she couldn't stand  _not_  to be with him. Every moment she spent with him was precious but every second of it tore her apart with every whimper of pain and bead of sweat. She felt like she was going crazy and each time her troubled blue eyes – once light and carefree like the sky on a clear day, now stormy and murky, dangerous, like the sea in a storm – saw the hell Jackson was going through, a little more of her died.

* * *

He was drowning. Or burning. Maybe even both. Drowning in fire – now there was an interesting prospect.

He wasn't sure who or even what he was anymore, his identity had been stolen by the pain long ago. His thoughts weren't necessarily coherent or abstract but simple feelings, words, flashes of recognition, and were laced with unimaginable pain.

He was hovering on the thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness, sleep and wakefulness, this life and after life. His level of awareness was periodically oscillating – rising to the point where he could hear what was going on around him through the buzz of the pain and the blood pounding in his ears, and dropping down to where he was all but comatose, still immersed in the pain.

He was freezing although he was pretty sure was sweating. It was strange, his body burning, not able to take in enough air, and freezing at the same time. It was so cold…

He could feel the icy, clawing fingers of Death encroaching upon him. He could give up now, fall into its clutches. Or he could fight. Wait until Death forcibly dragged his life force from his body. The pain and discomfort was so great that he longed to die, to be free of the pain, but something was stopping him. He could hear someone sobbing, crying, and a whisper from a woman – an angel? – begging him to stay, to come back…

She was so distressed that he felt he had to comfort her. With every ounce of strength he had left, he forced his eyes open, closing them instantly when a dull light assaulted his tender pupils with the pain of seeing again. Instead of opening his eyes, he forced his mouth to work. He had to. His voice was rough and sickly, thin and reedy at the same time. He wasn't even sure  _how_  he was able to speak and when he did, it took nearly every reserve of his energy…

He wasn't even sure where the name came from, but it rolled off his tongue. He heard a gasp and someone grip his hand when he muttered, "Taylor…"


	15. Chapter 15

Ian and Jory had realized that something was wrong when Captain Russell had emerged through the tree line with two strange men – deeply tanned skin, black hair, malicious black eyes. The three men hadn't seen them yet but they were headed straight for Abby and Nathan. Ian looked at Jory, eyes wide with fear, even as he dragged her back behind a tree and hissed for her to be quiet. "What are you doing?" she hissed, her voice barely even a whisper. "We have to help Abby!"

"And how are we going to do that when Russell and his cronies have us in their sights, too?" Ian hissed back, his mind racing as he tried to decide upon a course of action. "We've got to watch and see what's happening and then we've got to get help."

Jory raised an eyebrow even as she complied and stayed put, hiding behind the tree as the three men continued their trek to Abby and the recently rescued Nathan. "Help? In case you haven't noticed, Ian, this is a  _deserted_  island we're on. There's  _no one_  to help us!"

Ian shook his head. "Not true. The others – Daley, Jackson, Lex – they can probably help. Jackson especially. I have a feeling he's been in more than his fair share of situations. With all of us, we should be able to sneak up on them and rescue Abby and Nathan…"

Jory didn't look convinced. "Please, what are we going to do, Ethan? Knock them out with a lump of wood? Tie them up with vines? Or just get it over with and kill them?" She blanched at the thought. "Face it, even if we do outnumber them, we won't be able to subdue them for long. And besides, the others are all the way on the other side of the island. Abby's the only one who's tried to travel back there and she nearly  _died_  in doing so. Plus, even if we  _do_  make it, it could take  _days_  to make it to the other side. There's nothing we can do."

Ian quirked an eyebrow at his frantic friend. "Gee, Jory," he attempted to joke, trying to lighten the situation, "when did you become such a pessimist?"

Jory rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Ian." She bit her lip. "I guess you're right – it's the best plan we've got."

* * *

Taylor couldn't believe it when she heard Jackson's voice – a voice that was laced in pain and fear and everything that it shouldn't sound like, but a beautiful, welcome sound all the same. And he had said her name – _her_ name! She could hardly dare to think it, but what if… what if he was recovering?

She grasped his hand and felt her heart sink as she took in his appearance, even more pallid and deathly than he had before. Obviously the effort of saying her name had exhausted him. Her eyes spilled fresh tears and in that moment she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if they didn't get help within a few hours, all would be lost.

Jackson would be dead.

She collapsed on the ground next to him, still caressing his hand, and broke down. She was so immersed in her grief that she didn't notice when the tent flap peeled back and didn't see Melissa's heartbroken face as she viewed the scene before her.

* * *

Melissa was furious. Not with Taylor, no. But with herself. How could she have been so petty, being jealous of Taylor's obvious feelings for Jackson? She shouldn't have been avoiding Jackson's bedside whenever Taylor was around, trying to keep herself away from the prospect that Taylor was in love with Jackson. How could she have been so stupid? It didn't matter who Jackson liked or didn't like or only liked as a friend.

She watched as Taylor completely broke down into a sobbing, crying mess on the tent floor, hands grasping Jackson's in a death grip. Tears spilled down Melissa's ashen face as she realized that in her jealousy she had alienated herself from a serious ally and friend. She didn't want to feel this bitterness against Taylor anymore, especially with Jackson's life on the line like this.

Without a word, Melissa dropped to her knees beside Taylor and wrapped her arms around the hysterical girl's shoulders, whispering soothing words while fighting her own despair. Together they sat there, two broken friends praying, grieving, barely daring to hope.

All they could do now was wait.


	16. Chapter 16

Special Agent John Randalf smiled grimly as he and the small team of private investigators hired to hunt down the closest branch of a drug ring that was operating in the area stealthily rowed to the island they'd been unknowingly led to. They had received an anonymous tip from someone – perhaps an old gang member that had deserted or someone with a vendetta with the group that wanted revenge – that some operatives would be nearby. If they were lucky, they would find one of the drug ring's caches. If they were  _really_ lucky, they might even be able to catch a few of the drug dealers.

John and his right-hand man, a short, lean man named Cory Wright that was surprisingly fast despite his height and was an excellent shot, had been chasing after this drug ring for quite some time. His eyes widened as they fell on the sight of something big on the front side of the island. It was massive, winged – a plane – and… and were those tents? He exchanged a glance with Cory and they made sure to keep to the wooded edge so anyone on the island – the drug dealers, most likely – wouldn't see them.

They intended to take whoever was making their home on the beach by surprise.

* * *

Eric couldn't take it anymore. He could hear Taylor and Melissa talking quietly in the tent where Jackson lay dying –  _dying!_  – and Daley was with Lex somewhere behind the plane, trying to console him or something. The whole thing with thinking that he'd seen Nathan tied to the tree had really shaken the kid up. Not that Eric blamed him. And yet part of him hoped that maybe it _had_  happened. That Nathan  _was_  alive like Lex had thought. And that someone had come along and rescued him… or – he winced – finished the job.

No, he couldn't think like that; he certainly couldn't give himself false hope. Jackson was dying and Nathan was dead. They were falling apart, they were losing themselves. And it was maddening.

Eric had been thinking about checking in on Jackson but he couldn't do it. He couldn't face it. Instead, he walked away from the tent and decided to take a walk down the beach to clear his head. He had only walked about twenty yards and was close to the tree line when he felt the tingle on the back of his neck. He stiffened, muscles tensed in case he needed to do something – like run or fight. If those creeps that had killed Nathan were back…

Suddenly he felt something cold and hard jabbing into the back of his neck. The barrel of a gun. Eric's breathing quickened as full comprehension of his situation dawned. He had to force himself not to try and run or lash out. He knew if he did he could very well wind up with a bullet in his neck – which would more than likely serve to make this day a whole lot more suckish than it already was.

A voice Eric had never heard before, deep and over-confident, ordered, "Put your hands on your head, where I can see them."

Shaking, Eric did so, trying not to show his fear and failing miserably.

Another voice chimed in. "Turn around – slowly, or it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Eric complied, shocked to see that he was face-to-face with two armed men in uniform. _Uniform._  Only one thought entered his mind and forgetting about the guns pointed at him fled from his awareness as he realized _, We're saved!_

 _Well_ , he amended mentally,  _we_ will _be saved once these guys realize that we're not the bad guys here._  He gulped as he eyed the deadly weapons.

Yep, for the first time in days, Eric was going to have to talk. He had a  _lot_  of explaining to do.


	17. Chapter 17

"…and then those two thugs grabbed Nathan – maybe even  _killed_  him," Eric gritted out, trying to keep tears from flowing. He'd been strong this whole time, hadn't let any real emotion show, not one tear fall. But the fact of the matter was, he was grieving just as much as everyone else. Jackson and Nathan were his friends, too. Nathan was gone, probably dead, and Jackson was more than likely  _minutes_  away from the same fate. Same… fate. Eric leapt to his feet from where he'd been sitting, the two agents' guns no longer trained on him since he'd told them his story and they seemed inclined to believe it. "That's  _it!_ " he crowed.

The head agent, whose name had been revealed to be John, glanced at his cohort, who went by Cory, and then fastened his eyes back on Eric. "What's it?" he demanded, his fingers itching toward his gun. Not that he thought Eric was any type of a threat – the kid was malnourished and exhausted from being trapped on the island for so long and John knew his story was true; he remembered hearing about Flight 29's crash. Instead, he was ready to get into action.

Apparently the druggies they'd been following used this island as one of their caches and hadn't realized that someone had crash-landed there in the time they'd been away. They had more than likely murdered one boy – a  _teenager_ , for heaven's sake! – and another was on the verge of dying from some sort of tropical illness. He didn't want to stand around waiting anymore – he wanted to take those sick killers down and make them see justice. He didn't want to stand around anymore, but it seemed like Eric had just had an epiphany and John, as an investigator, knew that a revelation from even the most unlikely source could crack a case wide open.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before!" Eric moaned, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. "It's so obvious – Jackson gets sick right after Nathan disappears, when he's gone to  _find_ Nathan! It's not some sort of island disease – those goons somehow made him sick!"

Cory's eyes lit up as he surveyed the weary teen in front of him. "John, he's right. These guys are drug dealers – they know their trade."

John nodded curtly, momentarily forgetting about Eric now that they had something to go on – even if the boy, Nathan, was gone for good, they might just be able to save the other kid. They were  _not_  going to let anyone else die at the hands of this ruthless gang, not if they had anything to say about it. "Narcotics and their abuse is your specialty, Cory. Have Eric take you to the boy. Examine his symptoms, see if you can figure out what is causing this. I'll call for backup, and for an emergency helicopter to be dispatched immediately. If you go ahead and try to figure out what drugs or combinations thereof are causing his condition, I can alert the medics ahead of time. With any luck, he'll make it through this." He locked eyes with Eric. "And the rest of your friends most  _certainly_  will. You have my promise of that."

* * *

Nathan grunted as he was thrown down on the floor of the abandoned hotel, bound and gagged, sore and fevered from the infection, and unable to cushion his landing in the slightest. Abby thumped down next to him moments later, and both prisoners glared up at the three men that had captured them. "There," Hernando grinned, wiping his hands on his shirt. "That gets the two of you out of the way."

Abby tried to mumble something under her gag and Captain Russell looked at her almost sympathetically. "She's trying to say something," he informed the other thug, Ignacio.

Ignacio contemplated this for a moment and then shrugged, probably realizing that there was no one for her to yell for help to anyway and leaned forward, tugging the gag out of her mouth. Abby licked her lips, her mouth dry from the gag and a gross taste lingering in her mouth because of the fabric. She glanced over at Nathan, who was bleeding profusely from his arm again, thanks to the rough treatment he'd received from the men, and glared at Ignacio, pushing herself up as best she could with her hands bound behind her.

" _Si_?" Ignacio asked pleasantly, the wicked glint in his dark eyes betraying his tone. Abby's eyes narrowed even more.

"You can't just leave Nathan like that!" she burst out. Nathan's eyes widened fractionally at the sound of his name but then his eyelids seemed to droop even more and Abby knew that her sick friend was barely clinging onto consciousness.

Hernando frowned. "Why not? We will not keep him for much longer, anyway. He is too weak, too much of an asset to be a good hostage in case we run into trouble." He smirked. "You, on the other hand,  _bonita_ …"

Abby growled. "So you're just going to let him bleed out or die of infection? He's wounded, he's sick, he needs  _help!_ "

Ignacio rolled his black eyes impatiently. "Fine. We help him.  _Now._ " And he pulled out his gun, aiming it at Nathan's head.

There was a scream, a yell of pain, and then chaos.


	18. Chapter 18

The Life Star helicopter had landed on the beach about twenty minutes after John and Cory heard Eric's story. The remaining survivors on the beach could scarcely believe that rescue really had come and that Jackson may even survive the ordeal. He had been examined by Cory who had determined his illness had been caused by a combination of two drugs. It caused the body to shut down slowly. He had seen this lethal combination used in many a suicide case, but usually with a higher dosage so the death was more quick and painless. He informed Jackson's worried friends that he should make a full recovery as long as his treatment started right away.

After the helicopter flew off with Jackson, John and Cory stood on the beach with Taylor, Daley, Eric, Lex, and Melissa. They began to talk to the kids, trying to learn all that they could about their experience and how they had managed to survive so long.

"You guys are very brave," Cory commented, smiling at the group. No one smiled back. Despite the fact that this ordeal was over, the truth was, it was  _far_  from over. They had been left with mental and emotional scars that would last a lifetime. They had seen things, experienced things that no person – especially someone of their tender ages – should. But they had fought through it, they had shown that they were strong. They would get through this. Somehow.

John smiled in what he hoped was encouragement. Sighing, he informed the group, "We've got a boat coming along, guys. It's a bit slower than the heli, that's why it hasn't arrived yet. But when it does, you'll be on your way back to dry land, back to your families. This will all be over soon."

Lex spoke up. "But what about the others? Abby, Captain Russell, Ian, Jory?" The young boy paused, biting his lip. "Nathan?"

Daley scowled, Eric closed his eyes briefly, Taylor whimpered, and Melissa sighed. "Nathan's _dead_ , Lex," Daley informed her little brother in a much harsher tone than she had intended. Lex's eyes immediately brimmed with tears, making the older girl feel guilty for her callous tone and words. She just couldn't stand the raging emotions that came with the mention of Nathan or his fate. It was just so unfair.

"Lex…" she began, but her brother cut in, his voice high with emotion.

"No!" he cried. "No, I'm  _not_  crazy! I  _know_  what I saw."

Daley sighed. "I'm sorry, Lex. You know how ruthless those guys were. Jackson came within an inch of dying. We can only assume Nathan suffered the same fate, but he didn't have anyone there to help him. He's dead."

Cory and John glanced at each other sadly before John informed the group, "We have another team that was with us, they circled around to the other side of the island. They're looking for the drug dealers and they'll more than likely find your friends as well." He paused, not wanting to give them a false hope but not wishing to destroy all of their hope at the same time. Finally, he decided on, "And don't give up just yet. While there is a big possibility that Ms. Daley is right, you never know. From what you kids have told me, Nathan is nothing if not resilient."

Cory nodded as a boat appeared in the distance and for the first time the group smiled, seeing their way off of this island. Seeing a small ray of hope even in the darkest of times.  _They were going home…_  "If Nathan's still alive, we'll find him," he promised. He smiled. "Now, when the boat gets here, you five go ahead and board – it's a small yacht and there's plenty of room. As soon as we've located the others and have taken our prisoners, you'll be set to go while we finish cleaning up here. It's almost over. You're going home."

* * *

When the shot was fired, Abby clenched her eyes shut and didn't open them. She just  _knew_ that if she did, she'd see Ignacio standing over a lifeless, bleeding Nathan, gun smoking. He had been going to kill him. She knew that he had. He was dead.

She was shocked when she felt gentle hands helping her sit up, loosening the bindings on her wrists and gently tugging the gag from her mouth. She heard someone croak, "Thank you," and gasped, sure she had heard Nathan's voice but knowing that that wasn't possible – Ignacio had shot him! Or had he?

Squinting her eyes open, Abby gasped at the sight before her. Ian and Jory were standing over her, grinning, eyes watering. The hotel was swarming with uniformed men. A team of officers. _They were saved._  Ignacio, gun still held in his limp fingers, was lying dead on the floor, a bullet hole in his head. Abby felt sick at the sight, no matter how vile he was. Nathan was being held up by two of the rescuers who were already assessing his injuries. Hernando and Captain Russell were in handcuffs, being led out of the hotel.

Nathan saw her looking around, bewildered, and smiled weakly at her. "Hey, Abbs," he managed to say, tears in his eyes. "We're saved."


	19. Epilogue

**_One Month Later_ **

Taylor smiled and adjusted the banner she was hanging above Jackson's front door. The house he was living in now was small but quaint but he hadn't set foot in it since before the crash – he had been in the hospital for going on four weeks.

It had been a long, hard recovery, but thanks to his good physical condition before the incident and his sheer stubbornness, according to his primary doctor – he had managed to pull through even healthier than ever. Today was the day he was to return home and his friends were ready for him.

Melissa walked up behind Taylor and smiled at their handy work. "WELCOME HOME JACKSON" was painted in big, colorful letters. Out in the backyard, the rest of the teenagers and their respective families were milling about, getting drinks and snacks ready, and hanging up decorations. Nathan and Daley were sitting on the back porch swing, hand in hand, Nathan's arm still in a sling from the tissue damage the thug's knife had done to his arm. A thug, who, along with the other drug runner and Captain Russell (a shorter sentence giving the circumstances and head injury), coincidentally.

Eric was filling up water balloons with Abby while Lex chatted with Ian and Jory about a tutoring schedule this coming school year – Ian was terrible at Algebra, Jory was awful at Chemistry, and Lex was more than willing to help them both.

There was a small disturbance in the atmosphere – an excited, anticipatory disturbance – as a car pulled into the driveway and they knew it was Jackson. Everyone rushed to the front of the house to greet their friend, a young man who was once a loner and now surrounded by the most loyal friends he could have asked for. And all because of their time on the island.

Taylor all but threw herself in his arms, kissing him soundly on the lips, and Jackson kept a hand snug around his girlfriend's waist. Melissa gave him a friendly peck on the cheek, Eric patted him on the back, and Nathan attempted to give a one-armed hug.

Grinning brightly, his eyes twinkling, Jackson didn't say a thing. He didn't have to.

And suddenly, as the friends and family stood together, at home and safe where they belonged, the once grim future looked very bright indeed.

**THE END**


End file.
